


We've Got You

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Blood and Water [13]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:31:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9145111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Multiverse, Any, Threesome."Post-Enemy At The Gate, Rodney goes to check on John, but Lorne got there first.





	

Rodney’s heart felt like it was still racing, hours later, after the champagne bottles had been popped open and drinks had been shared and celebrations begun.  
  
They’d done it. They’d survived. The Wraith had done the nightmare, the unthinkable, come to Earth, done the very thing Atlantis was supposed to prevent - and Atlantis had defeated them. Ronon had died and been brought back by Kenny the Wraith. He was okay. He was fine. Keller was fussing over him in the infirmary. Whatever weirdness had gone on between them was done, and they’d figured out what was going on between them.  
  
And what was going on was kissing.  
  
Ronon was fine.  
  
Teyla was fine. Kanaan and Torren were safe on Atlantis, no harm had befallen them.  
  
All that was left was to check on John. John Sheppard, that stupidly heroic, self-sacrificing bastard, who’d nearly blown himself up with a nuke to take out the Super-Hive. John, who couldn’t be trusted to keep a single hair on his head secure without Rodney there to keep him in line.  
  
While Keller was showing Ronon the California coastline and how it lit up as sunset fell, while Teldy was reluctantly letting the Marines have at the moonshine from the chemists’ still on Pier 27, Rodney was making a beeline for John’s quarters, because no one had seen him since he’d stumbled into the Atlantis gate room and assured everyone he was fine, and Rodney had seen how shaky he was, how adrenaline-jittery he was. He wasn’t fine.  
  
Not without Rodney there to make sure, whatever John’s protests to the contrary.  
  
When Rodney walked into John’s quarters - the door opened under his hand with barely a thought; that was gratifying, that John trusted him so much - Lorne was already there.  
  
He was crowding John up against the wall, saying everything Rodney wanted to say, couldn’t say because he was frozen in shock.  
  
He’d known for years, but he’d never really seen -  
  
Lorne cupped his hands around John’s face, kissing him over and over again. “What the hell were you thinking, John? How could you do that?”  
  
John kissed Lorne back, smoothing a hand over his hair, down his spine, murmuring, “I’m safe, I’m here, I’m fine. Evan -” He ducked his head and captured Lorne’s mouth in a kiss, spun them around so Lorne was pinned against the wall. They were pressed together from shoulder to hip to thigh, rocking against each other, murmuring and moaning, and Rodney really had to get the hell out of there.  
  
Obviously John was fine. John didn’t need Rodney looking after him after all, not when he had Lorne.  
  
Rodney took a step back, and Lorne’s head snapped up, eyes open, gaze locked on Rodney.  
  
Shit. He’d been made. Time go go. Now.  
  
Rodney took another step back, only the door hissed shut, and he stumbled forward to avoid getting squished by it, and Lorne leaned in and kissed John, open-mouthed and filthy, and Rodney felt himself blushing hard, because that was damn hot, but also his heart was breaking, because dammit but Lorne knew how Rodney felt about John, and -  
  
Lorne shoved John back, and John stumbled, muzzy with abruptly-halted passion.  
  
“Evan?”  
  
Lorne crossed the room in a few quick strides, and Rodney backed up, because he knew the heat snapping in Lorne’s gaze, but he had nowhere to go, because the door was closed and it wouldn’t open and -  
  
Oh. Oh. Lorne was kissing him. Rodney could taste John on his tongue, knew the taste the way he knew John’s scent when they were shoulder-to-shoulder in battle. Rodney was rock-hard in an instant, like a teenager, embarrassingly so.  
  
He pulled back from Lorne’s relentless kiss. “I’m sorry,” he muttered hoarsely. “I’ll go, I’ll leave, I -”  
  
Lorne caught Rodney by the jacket and tugged him further into John’s room.  
  
“What -?” Rodney protested. He cast John a wild-eyed look, but John looked just as confused as Rodney felt.  
  
All thoughts of John went out the window when Lorne sank to his knees, his clever hands working at the button fly of Rodney’s pants.  
  
“Lorne, what are you -?”  
  
One swift tug, and Rodney’s pants were down around his ankles, and Lorne’s sure hands were wrapped around his hips, and Lorne swallowed Rodney’s cock to the root.

Rodney cried out when the head of his cock hit the back of Lorne’s throat, and Lorne hummed, the bastard, and oh fuck, it had been so long, so -  
  
Lorne pulled back, and Rodney blinked down at his dark head, dazed.  
  
“What are you waiting for, John?” Lorne asked, voice rough.  
  
Before Rodney could ask what Lorne meant, Lorne was circling the head of Rodney’s cock with his warm, soft lips, and John was behind Rodney, pressed up against him, warm and hard. He unzipped Rodney’s jacket with careful, careful hands. Rodney stared at them, entranced. He’d seen them so many times, studied them, long-fingered and strong where they peeled his jacket away, where they crept up the hem of his shirt, stroking along his belly and ribs, teasing him.  
  
Rodney had dreamed, so many times, of seeing John’s hands on his skin.  
  
“John, what?”  
  
“It’s all right,” John whispered, lips brushing against Rodney’s skin. “I’m all right. We’re all right. This is all right. Understand?”  
  
Rodney shook his head, because Lorne was flicking his tongue along the slit of Rodney’s cock, and John belonged to Lorne, always had -  
  
“We’re all safe,” John said. “We’re all okay. I’ve got you, you’ve got me. We’ve got you.” And he leaned in and fused his mouth with Rodney’s.  
  
Rodney kissed him tentatively, still dazed by the sensation and madness of everything that was happening.  
  
John’s hands skated up Rodney’s ribs, thumbs brushing over his nipples, and Rodney’s hips jerked involuntarily.  
  
Lorne moaned, the sound vibrating through Rodney’s cock, and his hips bucked again. John began stroking his nipples, the sensation relentless, and Rodney couldn’t help it, he started to thrust. Lorne caught his hips and hung on, hands strong and sure, while Rodney fucked his mouth, only John was fucking Rodney’s mouth with his tongue, and it was all too much, Rodney was going to fly apart -  
  
John pulled back. “Bed. To the bed.”  
  
Somewhere between the middle of the floor and John’s bed, Rodney was divested completely of his clothes, and he landed on the mattress with a gasp, and then John was all over him, naked John, hands and lips and tongue and teeth, and it was everything Rodney had ever dreamed and more, so much more, just the two of them tangling in John’s sheets, on John’s bed, only this wasn’t a dream, this was real, this was mixed up, something was missing, Rodney’s heart was fit to burst in his chest, and -  
  
“Lorne?”  
  
Where was Lorne? Because Lorne was supposed to be the one in John’s bed, not Rodney, not -  
  
John drew back from Rodney’s skin, his lips kiss-swollen, and turned his head.  
  
“I think, under the circumstances, you can call me Evan.”  
  
Rodney turned, and there was Evan Lorne, sitting beside the bed. He’d pulled up a chair and had one boot propped up on the edge of the bed, his legs splayed wide, working one hand in his unfastened pants while he sprawled back, his other hand working up his shirt.  
  
“You two just paint the prettiest picture,” Evan drawled. “Go on, why don’t you?”  
  
“Are you sure?” Rodney asked.  
  
Evan chuckled, low and filthy, bucked his hips up into his fist, and said, “Positive.”  
  
That single word unleashed something in Rodney he didn’t realize he had. He reached up, threaded his fingers through John’s hair, and yanked him in for a kiss.  
  
After a dizzying, breathless eternity, during which Rodney had done his best to memorize the way John tasted, John pulled back.  
  
“Little help?” he muttered, and Rodney heard Evan’s amused, “Sure thing.”  
  
John fumbled a hand between them, curled his fingers around Rodney’s cock, and his hand was slick with lube. Rodney thrust into the tightness of John’s hand, but then John was sliding his hips forward, grasping both of their cocks, and the friction and sensation was too perfect, and Rodney came with a cry. John followed a couple of seconds later, and then they were coming down from not just the endorphin rush of sex but the adrenaline high of everything that had come before, and Rodney was shuddering and sobbing in John’s arms.  
  
He’d almost completely forgotten about Evan until gentle hands swiped a warm washcloth over his sticky skin and John’s, and someone pulled the blankets up over him, and a warm arm slung around his waist, and someone whispered,  
  
“We’ve got you.”


End file.
